Daddy, Not Bats Origins: Dick
by Glimare
Summary: FROM THE DNB AU: From the journals of Alfred T. C. Pennyworth comes the story of how one eight year old Richard J. Grayson changed Bruce A. Wayne from justice minded, brooding, Dark Knight, into the father and man he thought was lost forever in a bloodied alleyway many years ago. How one boy changed Wayne Manor for the better. Fluff, foreshadowing, AU retelling


**Disclaimer:** in no way shape or form do I own anything or get any money in relation to Batman or his Robins, unless I'm selling my copies back to the store. This is merely for fun.

Now, I need to say this first: this story isn't remotely done. BUT today is Dick's birthday, in the majority of the comics and many people's head cannons. It is definitely the first Robin's B-day in _Daddy, Not Bats_, and as I didn't have a short to share, I felt I had to do something for the guy. So I decided to put out the first chapter of his Origin story for DNB. All the origin stories (minus one but not for a long time) will be told by Alfred in first person, which is tricky for me. Normally I don't do first person, ever. I normally don't do a lot from Alfred's perspective either, as the way he speaks and talks is a lot harder to figure out and put down than others. Intelligent slang, I get it. Posh Alfred talk, it's a bit harder. So don't expect quick updates with this one. It's a work in progress and I have others on my plate.

That being said, take a look into the DNBverse's Richard John Grayson's origin story. Enjoy!

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**_Daddy, Not Bats Origins: Dick _**

1

I wish I could say my first encounter with Master Richard was at Haly's Circus where his parents fell to their deaths, but it was not. Nay, all I can say is this: Master Bruce would have never met the dear boy if it had not been for my prodding. He ordered the tickets to see Haly's Circus around the same time as other socialites had, all for charity. Many members of the higher class attended that night: old classmates, friends and enemies, and many people Master Bruce would dare not associate with out of principle. They were all there that night.

And yet Master Bruce was the one most changed by the event.

I had the night off. Instead of visiting friends or attending to personal errands, I gave myself a relaxing evening by the fire, a cup of earl grey at my side and a fine novel in my hands. Though others may say differently, I rather enjoy a good fantasy novel. Edding's Sorceress of Darshiva was my choice that night, nearly completing the series, when I heard the garage door open and rushed footsteps darted towards the study from it.

Curiosity alight, I followed. I had believed my sound thrashing earlier that day about Batman needing a night off (and he had bought tickets) would keep him from the cave long enough to recuperate from his last beating. Really this glutton for punishments of the most unusual sorts, was going to be found in a gutter one night if he did not rest sometime soon.

"Care to explain why the sudden wardrobe change Master Bruce?" Raising an eyebrow at my former charge (now being I am only his employee these days), I hoped to gain some answers at long last. It was nary ten in the evening, a prime time for Batman to start appearing, but he had two rows of stitches in his side and a large bruise between them. Then there were the cracked ribs, formerly dislocated shoulder, bruised hip, and cracked wrist. A very poor landing caused these injuries and we agreed to let them heal for a few days at the least.

Batman was half dressed, looking franticly on his computer for something while pulling on the rest of his costume. He didn't even look at me as he hastily put his boots on and read the screen. On it was an itinerary for the circus he visited earlier that day, along with a few recorded financials. From what I could see, Haly's Circus was making even with some left over for insurance purposes. Nothing too out of the ordinary there.

"Haly's trapeze act fell to their deaths tonight," Master Bruce informed me as coolly as he could manage. A crease in his brow told me there was more. "Their son believes it was sabotage."

"Their son?" I tried not to be horrified at the thought of death at the circus. We already had a chaotic clown making Gotham a nightmare along with others who belonged to a 'freak show'. Another act bringing death would mar the good names of performers to all the city's citizens. And for them to leave a son behind...

Quickly the dark knight pressed a few keys and brought up the profiles of the 'Flying Graysons'. A family act. John, Mary, and Richard Grayson. Young Richard was only eight years old.

I took a step forward to read the screen better, sorrow starting in my chest as my eyes fell upon the boy once again. John and Mary were two of the best aerialists in the world. They could perform the quadruple summersault and swung without a net beneath them. Their young son was learning everything they knew, and started performing when he was five. Pictures of the boy reminded me greatly of Master Bruce, back when his parents were alive. Smiling, energetic, eager to please. His bright sky blue eyes danced in the photographs. When with his parents, they shone even brighter. Richard was a very lucky young lad, until that night.

"Richard Grayson," Master Bruce continued, moving on to his gloves. "He said his father checked the ropes before each show and it had to be sabotage. It was all I could overhear before child services took him away."

Hearing that, I internally cringed. The local social service was not a pleasant group. Eighteen years ago those people placed Master Bruce with his mother's family without consulting his parents' will. It took me two years to attain custody of him because of their interference. And when I had gained custody, such damage and trauma was imprinted on the lad, he was determined to become the vigilante he is now. Had I been given custody of Master Bruce back then, I assure you, he would have taken a less dangerous road.

Well, times do indeed change a person. Just as I opened my mouth to speak, the young man I raised was pulling on his cape and cowl. "Does he have any family?"

"I don't know." Batman finally looked at me, physically acknowledging me at long last. "There's a lot I don't know about this case. Find out what you can from here. I'm going to find proof if I can."

I nodded. "And once you do?"

"Bring their murderer to justice." A slight growl in his voice told me there was much more to this story and I would have to pry it out of him in due time, but right then Batman had to work quickly to ensure this murder wasn't covered up. Without another word, the detective leapt into his car and drove off into the night.

I must admit, I sighed helplessly. There he went, injured and agitated, reminded heavily no doubt of his parents' deaths, and only the armor and cape he wore to protect him. To think the bright and shining inquisitive lad I met near twenty-two years ago was now a man lost in a dark abyss with only a murder case to light his way. And yet he still shed his clothes everywhere around the room. Shaking my head, I picked up a once fine silk dress shirt, slacks, and $200 shoes to deposit upstairs for proper care. I did notice the lack of one suit coat, something I would look into later, but I digress. As soon as Master Bruce's laundry was clear of the cave, I returned to the computer to look into the Graysons, particularly if there were some nefarious dealings in their pasts.

What I discovered made their deaths more tragic by the second. The Graysons were model citizens. John was born and raised in Haly Circus, as was his father. He left for a few years to serve his country in the coast guard, but came back to the life he loved, with his beautiful wife. Mary's family had disowned her for leaving them and their Romani heritage. They were a very traditional sort and would have nothing more to do with her, despite following their skillset with her new husband. They were married three years before Richard was born and seemed to have no dealings with the mob or any loan sharks. Both had even assisted in stopping thefts in the past, exposing criminals who hid in their circus whenever they ran across one. They were well received all around the globe, especially since they were considered the best acrobats in the entertainment world.

Hearing the news report off to the side saddened me further. Vicki Vale, Master Bruce's current lady friend who had attended the event with him, was animatedly reporting about the incident on one of the many screens attached to the computer. "_As Mary Grayson turned around in the air to position herself to catch her son, the rope holding the bar her husband John was on snapped. Both fell fifty feet to the ground below. Coroners say they died on impact, sustaining multiple injuries throughout their body. They leave behind their eight year old son, Richard, who was on the platform preparing to join them during the accident._"

"He saw it all happen." My conclusion explained more than its fair share. It was no wonder Master Bruce was so determined to go out into the field, even though he was unfit to be out there. Like himself, Richard Grayson had seen his parents die, and was convinced it was murder. Batman would be able to determine if it was truly murder that night, then move on from there. He would solve this case.

But what of the boy? His father had no family, and his mother's side was highly estranged, even more than the Kanes were to Miss Martha. His only family as far as he'd know was the circus, and they had no legal right to him. Richard would be a ward of the state. If he was lucky he'd be placed in a good foster home, but this was Gotham and he came from the circus.

The boy's life there was going to be rough.

My heart went out to him, but I pushed it aside. I was too old to take in another young lad, let alone an energetic one who grew up on the road. And with Master Bruce's double life, he was hardly a suitable candidate to care for him. If only he didn't lead such a dangerous life in the shadows...

It was nearing two a.m. when the batmobile returned. I feel I had become an expert on the Graysons according to the internet, on them and Haly's Circus, during that time. I must admit, I was a little worried about their financials being as stable as they were but I digress. Looking to the black car, I waited impatiently for my former charge to come out and state whether it was an accident or murder. Part of me prayed accident, but as soon as Batman stepped out with a tattered rope in hand, I knew the truth.

"Sabotage." The dark knight swept through the cave to the computer and chemical lab not too far off. "The rope has remains of acid on them, industrial grade. The fibers aren't easy to destroy without one."

"I see. And what did young Mr. Grayson have to say about the rigging?" I stepped forward to see what else he had learned, eager to know more. Though I keep a stoic face as per my station, I do love to know what transpires on Batman's cases.

A negative quirk around the young man's mouth told me more than I liked. "I couldn't find him. Social services took him somewhere off the books."

"Good lord..." I knew well what that meant. Young Richard Grayson was lost in the system. Not even twelve hours after his parents' deaths and he was inside a bureaucracy that cared little for the mental and emotional health of its citizens. "We need to find him."

"Agreed. He may be a material witness to his parents' case." He looked over to me at last, his jaw set. "I left the second rope with Captain Gordon to run tests and validate my findings. He's looking for the boy too. Once he's found, he'll have to be taken into protective custody. His parents' killers may try to shut him up."

A thought came to my mind, one I believe shaped the entire future before us, and I do mean us. "Might I suggest, that Bruce Wayne take an interest in the boy?"

Batman's head jerked back so fast I feared he would suffer from whiplash in the future. "What?"

"It would be quite suspicious of Batman being directly involved with an eight year old boy from a circus who has only been in town for a few days. Haly's Circus is not part of any organizations in Gotham, nor is it a victim of a theme criminal. The likelihood of him being involved with the lad without arousing attention to the boy is minimal.

"If Bruce Wayne, someone with a similar personal background and who was there tonight, were to inquire after Mr. Grayson's wellbeing, well, no one would look twice. It could even be seen as good press, taking a direct interest in orphans. And who better to take care of the funeral than one who was there?"

Batman just gaped for a minute, then slowly pulled back the cowl to see me in a clearer light, confusion weighing on his face. "Are you saying I should get directly involved... on a personal level?"

"You do feel for the boy," I pressed. "Don't deny it. The instant I found out Richard had seen his parents' fall, I knew why you were so animate about this. You need to see this case through. Bruce Wayne is not adverse to acts of charity, and seeing you are personally invested in this, becoming more actively involved is the best option, for the both of you.

"No doubt the boy is in shock and needs a friend, one who knows what he has gone through personally. Who better to speak with him about tonight than you? After all," a smirk grew on my face, "you already gave him your suit coat."

Master Bruce looked away sheepishly, trying to hide his anxiety. Of course I knew where the coat went. For the brief time I had with Young Master Bruce after his parents' deaths, I recalled the lad being wrapped in a police officer's coat. The one officer on the scene had made a deep impression on him with that gesture, one where with he trusted that man still with everything he had. Captain Gordon was an ally to Batman, and a treasured friend to Bruce Wayne. Of course he'd repeat the gesture to Richard Grayson, and likely have the same results.

He, not Batman, was the best man for the job.

"I'll see what I can do."

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A/N: What do you think? Good opening? I also don't have any ownership to Edding's Malorean series, though I do own a copy. I do believe Alfred enjoys a good fantasy novel every now and again, and I try to give him a broad selection.

I thought it'd be interesting if Alfred was the one who gave Bruce the idea of taking Dick in, giving them more of a ground work to start on. Like I said before, don't expect fast updates. This isn't done and Dick's story is probably gonna be the longest of the batkids. If you have any ideas of Alfred like chapter titles, do tell. All I can think of is 'In which...' bits. =/ ah well. Until next time. ^^V


End file.
